


Broken But Not Dead

by heeroluva



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Blood, Gen, Hallucinations, Post-Endless Waltz, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, ZERO System
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wing Zero is gone, destroyed, yet Heero still hears its whispers, still feels its fingers digging into his brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken But Not Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taichara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/gifts).



Heero wakes from a nightmare, screams and explosion, memories and not echoing in his skull. The feel of blood on his skin is so real that he has to turn on the light and look to see if it’s there or not, half afraid of what he’s done in his sleep. Wing Zero is gone, destroyed, yet Heero still hears its whispers, still feels its fingers digging into his brain. The percentages, failure rates, success rates, the unknowns, casualty rates, outcome after outcome, the replays of his past mistakes, proof that he wasn’t ever good enough weave together in an endless loop behind his eyes.

 _Kill_ , it croons, when Heero hears someone walking past his door. He ignores it. _Enemy_ , it promises as the faces of his comrades in arms, the former Gundam pilots, his _friends_ flash before his eyes. He knows them, knows their strengths and weaknesses, knows how to destroy them all without killing them, but he also knows that each of them would lay down their life for him without a second thought. No, they were not his enemy. 

More often than not and tonight was no different, Heero finds himself pressed into the corner of his sparsely furnished room, the solid feel of the wall against his back the only thing convincing him that he’s really here and not on the battlefield, the only thing that makes it easier to ignore the faces of the innocent people who have died because of his action or inaction that surround him, the accusation in their dead eyes weighing heavy as the feel of their blood seems to seep from his very pores. 

The familiar weight of the gun in his hand makes Heero startle and he looks down at it. He’s never sure if the gun is real or not and is thankful that people know better than to burst into his room unexpectedly. Sometimes in moments like these Heero wonders what would happen if he raised the gun to his head. If he pulled the trigger would the voices stop, would the memories go away? In the light of day Heero will scoff at his own weakness, but at night Heero can’t escape the grip that Wing Zero, a ghost of a machine, still has on his brain. 

It is the flash of Quatre’s face that always stops him more than anything, his belief that all life is precious. 

_I will never kill again._ Heero’s own words. They mock him now, the hopeful lie that had fallen from his lips. Wing Zero reminds him of his purpose. Heero knows what he is, know that he’s still useful.

 _The only way to live a good life is to act on your emotions._ Heero’s father’s dying words. Heero closes his eyes at the sight of him. At the time, Heero had scoffed at the words, buried them beneath his training. But now they are a lifeline, a reminder that there is more to life than logic and calculations. 

_Broken_ , it murmurs mournfully. 

Yes, Heero agrees, learning every day that broken doesn’t mean the end of things. He’s broken and not merely surviving, but learning to live.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this is a blast from my past. 
> 
> I hope you like it!


End file.
